War Child
by The Bloody Red Queen Of Angst
Summary: "He wasn't worried about me losing. He was worried about me getting hurt winning. And therein lied the double edged sword of these brutal competitions. The thrill, mixed with the real possibility of danger. Because... Anyone could enter. Anyone could fight." Disclaimer: I don't own Fruits Basket OR 'No Stings Attached'. *Complete*
1. Welcome To The Freak Show

**A/N: This story is dedicated to my good friend, GalaxyVisionary. As a random gift/brain child. And is directly inspired by her story, No Strings Attached. This first chapter has quotes, dialogue, and descriptions DIRECTLY taken from Chapter 26: Deck The Halls. So these are not my words...but hers.**

 **Also, a special thank you to Fandom Angst. Trust me friend. You will see why later on.**

 **I intend this story to be about four chapters long. No more. So I will try to hold myself to it!**

 **For those waiting on my other works, your patience, love and support are deeply appreciated. You know who you are. And I hope you know how much you are loved. I will be back to regularly scheduled shenanigans soon.**

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 _'No,'_ He had said, massaging his temples. _'I won't train you.'_

These words still reverberated through my mind as I watched the spectacle before me through the overpowering sounds of the crowd and the violent physical altercation unfolding before my very eyes.

But the argument we'd had was still so fresh in my mind. An argument with him.

A guy.

A guy that I was seeing...but...not.

That I was with. All the time.

...but...

Not.

 _'What?! Why not?! We'd just be sparring for an hour every day, and you can give me a few pointers.'_

 _'I already told you, Kitty. I'm not gonna help you.'_

This argument just kept playing itself through my mind. Over and over again as I attempted to keep my gaze trained and focused on the fight happening right in front of me. To scrutinize and size up the talent that signed up for these matches in order to mentally psych myself up and prepare myself for the one I had already signed up for. For the following week. December 23rd.

 _'And I'm asking you why not?! Do you think I'm going to lose and not be able to handle it or something? I'm not a little girl, and I didn't ask for your evaluation!'_

The thing was...I didn't want to be mad at him. Not over this. But the whole altercation had been so ridiculous. It's not like I had asked him to spare a liver. I had just wanted someone to train with that could read me. My moves.

My body.

And tell me what needed fixing. Not for him to decide that I would never make it out there. In the ring.

 _'You know I don't think that.'_ He had said, scowling at me. _'I know you probably will win.'_

 _'Then what's the problem?!'_ I remembered repeating myself, having grown so very tired of going in circles with him.

And...I knew that I'd never forget that look he'd given me when I'd asked him that question. An anxiousness I'd never seen in him flashing in his eyes as his fingers found their way through his oddly colored hair.

 _'You never let anything go, do you? I don't get why you can't just take no for an answer.'_

I remembered that it had been _those_ words. Those _exact_ words...that had finally set me off. The condescending connotation of clinging to frivolous things, being an annoyance. It was those very words that my dad had so cruelly hurled at my mom. The ones he had said to hurt her because he was screwed up on the inside. Telling her she'd never amount to anything...but a failing artist.

That, and nothing more.

 _'Fine. I'll find my own way to do this, whether you support me or not. I really don't care.'_ I had said, snatching up my things and shoving my feet into my shoes.

Even as my eyes now trailed and followed the moves of the two fighters in the ring before me, my mind was still trapped in this argument. Even now...his words seemed to have such a hold on me. Such weight and effect.

...even now...

Or...maybe...especially now, as I witnessed this madness in the ring.

 _'Are you seriously leaving over this?!'_ I remember he'd hurled this at my back as I'd begun to walk away from him. _'Just because I won't have a hand in you getting hurt?!'_ I remembered...his voice had held such an incredulous tone with this question.

This question...that had caught me so off guard.

Because...up until now...our relationship had never held room for such sentiment. And it was this unexpected show of emotion and concern from _him_...over _me_...that had really thrown me for a loop.

 _'What?!'_ I had paused to glare at him, because what he had said then didn't make sense in the least.

Because...I knew that he didn't _really_ care about me. Not like _that._ Or...at least...that's what I had always thought.

Because all we did was see each other every day at school.

And screw each other on the weekends.

...it wasn't like I was his girlfriend...

 _'You're so annoying!'_ He had growled towards the dubious scowl I had thrown his direction as I had attempted to make my getaway. _'Why do I have to tell you that I don't want you getting hurt?! Why can't you figure that out for yourself?!'_

And I remember that those words had caused me to stop completely. Halted in my tracks, as I felt the flames of my earlier anger flicker out and die. Die...to be replaced by emotions far more complex and confusing than my indignation.

 _'But...I fight you. I've never gotten hurt.'_

 _'It's different with me.'_ He'd replied coolly as we found our bodies drifting together, drawn towards each other until we were toe to toe and eye to eye. _'I don't harm you on purpose. Who knows what kind of bloodthirsty psychos you'll be going up against?'_

 _'You make it sound so dramatic.'_ I remembered laying my head on his chest as I stared down at my feet.

But as I drank in the violence made sport unfolding before my very eyes, I wondered if maybe he had been right about this...

If he had been right...to worry.

 _'But I guess you have a point.'_ I remembered having finally conceding to this well-made point he'd had. _'I just...I don't want to be afraid all the time. I want to...I want to prove something to myself.'_ The weight of these words had fallen so heavy along my shoulders.

So very heavy.

...until...

 _'Alright, I won't try to change your mind.'_ He had conceded, his hands moving to my shoulders to bring me away from his body. _'But I won't help you do it either. I don't want the guilt of helping you do something dangerous on my head. You gotta promise me one thing, thought.'_

I remembered that this had made me feel so nervous. I had been so scared of his condition. Of what it might be. I hadn't been sure that I was okay with this...

 _'That depends.'_

 _'You need to forfeit if you feel yourself struggling to stay conscious.'_ His voice had come so low and filled with concern that it had momentarily taken me aback as he continued with his caveat. _'If you think...even for a second...that you won't make it, promise me you'll tap out.'_

It had taken me only a moment to think over this. Weighing the pros and cons before I had finally settled on my decision.

 _'Ok. I promise.'_

As I watched the man in the ring go down hard with a viciously savage round house kick to the face from his opponent, I practically felt the silent cringe from Kyo as he stood next to me. Taking in this spectator sport. And I suddenly felt a level of gratitude towards his presence _and_ the promise he'd had me make.

And I remembered that, after this argument we'd had, it had been _his_ idea to scope out one of these events before I entered. The fliers were posted _everywhere_ for these martial arts cage matches, so it hadn't been terribly difficult to find one to crash.

 _Put your fighting skills to the test in this nationwide tournament! Compete against the best of the best in your class, duking it out to win the grand prize!_

 _Get ready to rumble!_

And therein lied the double edged sword of these brutal competitions. The thrill, mixed with the real possibility of danger. Because...

 _Anyone_ could enter.

 _Anyone_ could fight.


	2. Bloodthirsty Psycho: But which is which?

These tournaments.

They always seemed to draw people from all walks of life.

From those who signed up to fight.

To those who came to watch the spectacle.

And it seemed that tonight was no exception.

That was...

Until I saw _them._

I hadn't seen them enter together. In truth...I hadn't noticed them at all. At first. I had been too focused on the next match of the evening. Most people would assume that, after a while, one sparring match would look like all the rest. But with each match I had seen thus far, I had learned something. Something new. Different. Useful. And with this being the third fight of the evening, and the rest of the night ahead of us, I planned on trying to learn as much as I possibly could.

Because...even though he had come with me tonight...it wasn't like Kyo was going to help me.

He had already made his position of non-interference perfectly crystal clear.

He wasn't going to help me.

So I saw this as an opportunity to see what these competitions were really like. Learn the general rules and conduct. Maybe even acquire some new moves. And as the newest fighters took their corners I set my gaze on the ring. My senses heightened. My attention honed and sharpened, intent towards the fight at hand.

That was...

Until I saw _them_.

The man himself, looking to be in his early twenties, possessed thick, stick straight inky black hair that framed an angel's face with a sweet cherub smile. His pale, alluring Asiatic features seemed to lend a strangely open, inviting appeal to him. Pale...and perfectly flawless with an almost boyish innocence given his twenty odd years. And obsidian eyes as dark and depthless as the farthest reaches of space.

Dark and a bit mysterious...like his attire.

An expensive looking black silk button down that came accented with a deep, blood red tie. The well fit, personally tailored button down top came paired with crisp black business trousers and finished with smooth leather shoes. Maybe Italian. And just a bit pretentious with the way he stood in them. With his jacket meticulously draped over the crook of his arm that came crossed along his chest as the hand of his other grasped a flimsy red plastic cup.

Even with that cheap plastic cup filled with even cheaper alcohol, he exuded an almost pompous air of self importance. There was no doubt that _this_ young man came from some _very_ old money. The kind of money that had taken over and absorbed Feudal Japan to create the new cast system of his kind...and ours. Though he had dressed himself in modern, westernized business apparel I had no doubt that, on the weekends at least, the man probably clothed himself in the finest traditional kimonos money could buy.

So his presence here led me to believe that he was merely a thrill seeker. A young, bored aristocrat with too much money and time on his hands who was simply looking for a good time. A story to tell about _'that one night'_ he went _'slumming'_ with the commoners.

Either way...it didn't seem like this had really been _his_ idea.

But his exotic Caucasian counterpart? The foreigner standing next to him, on the other hand, was a different story all together.

His attire suggested that he held the same level of wealth and social standing as his host. The expensive looking white silk button down and dark blue tie he wore came underneath a finely tailored black suit jacked. This top came paired with crisp black business slacks, finished with similar appearing, stylishly expensive shoes. On the surface at least, this guy bared a similar resemblance with his taste and dark hair. But it seemed that this surface level appearance was where the similarities between him and his friend ended.

Because, unlike his friend, the way _this_ man carried himself...his level of confidence...it screamed to the world that he could fit in _anywhere,_ and _no_ one would question his presence. And it was that confidence radiating off of him that told me this guy sought approval from _no_ man. Not even his host. The whole ensemble...his demeanor...it held such a 'no nonsense' approach.

This guy didn't seem the type to mess around.

And his face.

The guy's face, or what I could see of it, was absolutely beautiful. Truly striking in its captivating appeal, though seeming to hold just a few more years and far less innocence than his Japanese host. His raven black hair casually mussed, tantalizingly begging itching fingers to run themselves through it. But this man's face... His face was almost tragically divine with the passive expression he held. His pale, lean, exotic features...along with the true color of his eyes...came slightly obscured by the opaque, designer frames he wore.

Strange...since the whole arena was so dimly lit save for the harsh spotlight cast upon the ring.

But far stranger still, was when I began to watch the two of them. _Really_ watch them.

 _Together_.

Because each man seemed to have such an oddly intense, almost intimate awareness of the other's physical presence and proximity. Like an intricate dance. When one moved...so did the other. Like breathing. In. And out. As if the two were so deeply in sync with each other that the very existence of the one depended upon and defined the existence of the other. One validating the other in an almost disturbing symbiotic relationship.

And I found this behavior all the more bizarre when I noticed the small space they always kept between themselves. Careful to keep a distance and never brush up against the other. Almost as if they were two highly volatile compounds that, should they ever actually touch, would end up consuming each other in a destructive inferno.

Like fire and gasoline.

Or hydrogen peroxide and sulfuric acid. That, when combined, held the potential for spontaneous combustion.

This was what came to my mind as I watched these two men carefully navigate being in the same room together.

And as an outside observer looking in on these two, I began to wonder if _they_ knew... How deeply they seemed to influence and affect each other. Or...maybe it was only everyone _except_ the two of them that could see this.

Because as they began to talk amongst themselves, the man taking dainty sips from his plastic cup as the foreigner helped himself to a cigarette, they seemed to engage in this little dance of theirs with little to no effort on either of their parts. It was almost disturbing the way their behavior together seemed to come so naturally to them. When it was so wholly and painfully unnatural behavior between two individuals. Yet there they stood. Together. Watching the fight. Discussing it like some lofty play or piece of art. No doubt picking it apart and critiquing it in order to give a review to their friends afterwards.

As the fight drew to a violent end with the vanquished thrown to the mat, the man wordlessly handed his drink to his counterpart in order to free himself as the crowd erupted into a cacophony of celebration and boisterous cheers around them. Yet the man conducted himself with an odd level of decorum, still cradling that fancy jacket of his draped along his arm as he simply offered demure applause to the victor in the ring. As he made a show of appreciation for having been amused by the match, the man's foreign friend helped himself to the man's drink.

Like the breathless sensation of taking a false step along stairs, my stomach dropped and churned as my heart raced when I saw this. His lips meeting the rim of the plastic cup that had already been marked and kissed by another. This seemed such a horrible violation of personal space and boundaries. Because as close as the two of us were physically, sharing food or drink was something Kyo and I had never done. But his host seemed to either have not seen, or didn't care about what his friend had just done as he reclaimed his cup and took a sip.

With this, the two seemed to reengaged each other in conversation as the ring was prepped and made ready for the next fight. And they seemed to be able to move their lips in such a way as to veil the nature of their discussion. But...I had no idea if this was intentional, or simply another symptom of their bizarre relationship. The man gave the small, curious quirk of his head to the foreigner who seemed to give an infinitesimal nod before the man wordlessly dismissed himself.

Throwing his cup away in passing into one of the public dispensers, the man completely baffled me as I watched him make his way to the ring. His movement through the crowd was almost languid, yet so precise as he navigated himself around the spectators before managing to flag down the referee for a private meeting. As the two conversed just outside the ring, I witnessed the man engage the ref in a staunch negotiation that seemed to showcase his prowess and professional nature. The man may have come from old money...but he was clearly all business.

Even now.

As I watched further, I saw the man discreetly slip the appointed referee what looked like money. And...by the look on the refs face...it was a _lot_ of money. Though gambling at these events was frowned upon and, in fact, illegal it was really no surprise that bets were placed on these fights. But was _was_ surprising to me was the fact that this man, clearly a business man of high social standing, seemed to so obviously engage in these underground illegal activities. Maybe his friend had put him up to this.

Maybe it was the foreigner's idea...

Either way it seemed as if the referee had little to say on the matter as he offered a deep, low, submissive bow to the young man. The man returned this gesture of tradition by giving a smaller, more shallow, almost pompous one indicating his superior social status before turning on his heels and leaving the area before the next match was just to begin. Before the referee had a chance to decline the offer. The bet. And as he approached his friend through the crowd, something else was exchanged.

A glance.

A nod.

And a smile.

Just before the man's friend dropped his cigarette.

Snuffed it out.

Turned.

And left.

* * *

 **A/N: This chapter's title comes directly inspired by GalaxyVisionary and her review of chapter one. Thank you for the inspiration and smile, my friend.**


	3. A Change In The Line-Up

**A/N: Okay... So... I lied. But not intentionally! I got to writing this chapter, intending for this whole story to only be four chapters long. But...alas...the concept for this chapter started to become a lot longer. So, it was either have this buildup to the next chapter. Or. A really hella long chapter! Either way, I hope this wets the pallet for the next scene!**

* * *

For the rest of the fight, I wondered where he had gone.

The foreigner.

His friend. The Japanese playboy. _He_ had decided to stay. Watch the match. But, as the two of them had _clearly_ come to this event. _T_ _ogether_. I wondered where the other one had gone off to.

And, as stupid as this was, it _really_ threw me off as to why I had come here in the first place. To prepare myself for my own match the following week. Even as Kyo returned with drinks for the both of us. Even as the rim of the glass met my lips. I couldn't focus.

Not on the fight.

Not on the cheap alcohol that passed my lips, along my tongue, and down my throat.

Not even on the few, minor interjections that Kyo made throughout the match. About the fighters form and style. Useful, in its own way, without violating his solemn vow not to 'help' me.

I couldn't focus...because of _him_. The foreigner. And his sudden absence. It made me feel...uneasy. Because the very moment he had left I noticed that his Japanese host, the man who had stayed behind, had completely changed in his demeanor. An almost vacant expression now shaped his exquisite, angelic features as he watched the fight before him with open disinterest. As if, he were merely... _waiting_.

But...for _what_?

This fight to end?

The next to begin?

...something else entirely..?

I didn't know. And this omnipresent feeling of foreboding apprehension bothered me. A lot. Because it was so completely overpowering. This feeling. It was stifling to the point where I actually began to have trouble breathing. And as it seeped itself into every pore of my body, stunting my breath, a strange cold began to settle in the pit of my stomach. A glacial, icy cold that even the alcohol in my cup couldn't touch.

"Yo. Kitty." This came grunted from beside me, followed with a soft side nudge to call me out of my stupor. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden?"

"Nothing." I answered flatly, self-consciously dropping my emerald gaze away from the enigmatic playboy to my cup.

"Tch." He gave a condescending scoff. " _That's_ a likely story." And I couldn't help the eye roll given in Kyo's general direction.

"Yeah, well. It _is._ " I muttered as I heard a soft sigh of mild irritation, still working to avoid his gaze from my peripheral as I tried to focus on the match in front of me.

...tried to ignore the affluent young man and his absent friend...

"Are you still mad at me..?" This came a low murmur next to me. "For not helping you." His voice sounded almost vulnerably despondent at this thought, barbed with a level of agitation that I might still be upset with him over his decision.

"...no..." I whispered this honestly with the shake of my head. "I'm not mad at you."

Because this cold, ominous feeling of dread lumped in the pit of my stomach had _nothing_ to do with him.

"Don't tell me you're thinking of backing out of your fight next week." Kyo scoffed with an undignified self righteous snort that screamed 'I told you so.'

"No." I spat back, finally deigning to answer this response with a pointed scowl in his direction before my emerald gaze petulantly flitted back to the fight in the ring.

"...well..." This came a low whisper _so_ quite that I doubted he had intended for me to hear his next disheartening words. "...I wish that you would."

And I found myself so frustrated.

With him.

This situation.

 _Everything._

Because...with him...I felt like I could do absolutely _anything_.

I could screw him.

Talk dirty to him.

Moan out his name in such a way that made his heart race and his knees go weak.

Wear naughty lingerie for him.

Dance for him.

Argue with him.

Fight him.

With him...I could do absolutely _anything_...

Anything at all.

...except...

 _Talk_ to him.

Because, despite all of the things we _did_ do for each other, there was still something the two of us seemed incapable of. And _that_...was _talking_ to each other. The endless hours I spent with him...and I couldn't just _talk_ to him. Why couldn't I just _talk_ to him? About how I felt.

About him.

About how his refusal to help me _really_ made me feel.

About this overwhelming sense of apprehension that had wrapped itself around me in a strangle hold ever since the foreigner had arrived with his host.

...and then left...

I wanted to tell him.

To be able to talk to him.

I...just didn't know _how._

And I doubted that he knew, either.

Which was probably why we had developed the type of relationship that we now had.

"Kyo..?" I parted my lips, desperately wanting to try.

To express this swell of dark ominous dread that I just couldn't seem to shake.

"Kitty..?" This came a muttered grunt followed by his shifty side-glance my way.

A puffed sigh through my lips physically deflated my courage as I gave the small, defeated shake of my head.

"Nothing."

And just like that the moment I had wanted to create was gone with the silent, dismissive shrug of his broad masculine shoulders. The moment was gone. But...that feeling in the pit of my stomach? That feeling...

It was still there.

And as hard as I tried to push this feeling away, focusing on the climax of the fight, it was like a fever that ran rampant through my core. A wildfire...that had grown dangerously out of control. That was... Until I felt something. Someone. From behind me, passing just beyond my peripheral. Across my line of site. And this blur of motion sent the cold chill in the pit of my stomach straight up the length of my spine to my brain-stem. All I saw was dark hair. Pale flesh. A broad shoulder line and lean, yet toned muscular back. Narrowing to a thin waist.

I was in such a stated of shock that I almost dropped my cup. And I hadn't even noticed that the fight in the ring had ended with the victory already claimed. All I could focus on was the man who had _just_ stalked past me in nothing but basic black athletic shorts. His hands and feet, wrists and ankles bound in white wraps.

The next fighter?

As he made his way towards the ring, I was further confounded as he passed by the posh young man standing in the crowd. Because, as the fighter passed him by, the man's lithe body seemed almost magnetically pulled by some unseen gravitational force as he languidly trailed behind the guy to the center stage. And my jaw went completely slack in dismayed shock.

The air came filled with the nervous hum of curious whispers. The buzz of murmured curiosity swirled around me. But all I could see was _him_. All I could hear...was the ringing in my ears and the sound of my erratic heartbeat in my chest.

"What the hell is _this_?" Kyo muttered lowly, drawing my attention to the source of his open confusion.

A change in the line-up. The roster displaying the names of the two fighters in the next, and final, cage match of the evening suddenly shifting as one name was dropped for another.

One I couldn't read.

Because...the fighter? He _wasn't_ Japanese.

And it was like the fever raging inside of me had _finally_ broken to leave me in a cold sweat. I felt a wave of relief wash up and over me as I was simultaneously assaulted by another wave of overwhelming dread. Because...it was _him_. The foreigner.

He was back.

And he was going to fight.


	4. Blood Sport

**A/N: Okay...be gentle on me, as this segment has quite a bit of action and movement, which I am still not entirely fluent in writing for. Also...pardon any spelling or grammatical errors!**

* * *

"What the hell is _this_?" I heard Kyo snap in confusion as my gaze drifted from the ring to the roster displaying the names of the two fighters in the next, and final, cage match of the evening.

One of the names had been dropped and replaced by another.

One I couldn't read.

Because...the fighter? He _wasn't_ Japanese.

It was _him_. The foreigner.

He had come back.

And he was going to fight.

"I mean, is this guy even for real?" Kyo spat as we watched the man ascend to the ring with his glamorous playboy friend. "Tch." He gave a condescending scoff, folding his arms across his chest as a small curse slipped past his lips. "Tourists." This came a scornful snort of disdain with the shake of his head. "They watch some anime and martial arts shows. Take some classes. And suddenly they think they can be the next Jackie Chan." He continued to vent his mounting vexation. "And Jackie Chan's not even Japanese!" He snapped. "It's insulting!" And I simply couldn't help the snorted chuckle that slipped through my nose at the way Kyo had gotten himself so worked up.

But if there was one thing in the world that Kyo was intensely passionate about...it was martial arts. Thanks to the influence of his adoptive father, Kazuma. I had only spoken to the man a handful of times...but...he was always exceedingly kind to me. Always asking me how I was doing.

He was sweet.

And...more than that...he was someone Kyo respected and admired. Which was a big deal. For Kyo.

Kyo's rant drifted and faded through my consciousness as my attention once again came pulled on the center stage. The referee stood between the two fighters, explaining the rules. And it was then that I noticed the clear size difference between the foreigner and his opponent. That...and what looked liked a small, gold metallic charm suspended from the man's neck by a delicate, almost invisibly slender chain as it glinted and gleamed in the harsh light of the center ring.

But what I found absolutely _baffling_ was that the foreigner's prestigious Japanese host had been allowed to enter the ring as well. Standing to the side of the exotic foreigner, I watched the man's lips moved to the rhythm of the ref's directions. As the foreigner listened, his gaze came fixated on his opponent as he regarded them with an expression that seemed to run deeper and far colder than mere indifference or apathy.

It was... _unnerving_. The way he looked at him.

"...what do you think they're doing..?" I whispered lightly to myself with the cant of my head.

"How the hell should _I_ know?" Kyo muttered back sardonically as I gave another small roll of my eyes.

As the referee finished with the rules of engagement, the man's opponent gave a bow of respect as the foreigner simply regarded his opponent's actions with cold impassivity, forgoing the respect of bowing in return. With this the Japanese aristocrat gave the graceful turn of his heels to dismiss himself from the ring, the ref soon following after him as the two fighters finally took to their corners to begin the match.

"Man." Kyo muttered lowly with a level of disdain and the shake of his head. "I _really_ hope this guy gets his ass kicked."

"I don't know..." I murmured incredulously in response to Kyo as we both focused on the fight about to begin. "Did you see his face?"

"What about it?" Kyo grumbled flatly.

"Well...it's pretty perfect. Not a mark or blemish." I answered quietly with a shrug as I heard another condescending snort.

"Yeah well...his face better be the the _only_ thing you're looking at." And I couldn't help the mischievous little smirk that played along my lips.

"Awe." I cooed softly in my most enticing voice. "Is my little kitty cat jealous?" I chuckled playfully as I heard a growl of a response emanate from deep in his throat.

"No." Kyo snapped haughtily. "I'm not. And don't call me that!" I felt the heat of his bristling anger before he completely deflected the situation back on me with a tone laced in bitterness and sarcasm. "I just didn't realist you had a thing for older men."

But instead of becoming angry over this insinuation of my virtue, I decided to completely turn the tables against him in my favor. To hit him where I _knew_ he was weak.

"Well..." I whispered alluringly in his ear. "...of _course_ I'm into older men." My voice came almost sinfully licentious as I moved closer to him to close the gap between our bodies. "I mean... _You're_ older than me..." I pointed out our small, almost meaningless age difference of mere months. "...and I have a thing for _you_." This came a seductive purr in his ear...and without warning, a playful smirk came to my lips as I gently sucked his lobe between my teeth, giving it a gentle tug as I felt the heat simply _pouring_ off of him from the stimulation of my teasing.

"...Kitty..." He gave the low, husky groan of my sobriquet as I let out a helpless chuckle at his expense.

"Did you know your ears turn the same color as your hair when I get you all worked up?" I asked playfully as he gave another irritated growl.

"Not funny, Kitty."

"It sort of is, Kyo." I countered with another lighthearted chuckle. "Besides...I had to get you back somehow." I smiled triumphantly to myself.

"For _what_?" Kyo quipped harshly.

"For implying that I have a ' _thing'_ for _that_ guy." I replied, my tone dropping to a hushed whisper. "I was being serious about his face." I continued, my gaze focusing on the ring to avoid Kyo's glances. "I mean...he's a fighter, right? And his face _doesn't_ have a single mark on it? Really?" I asked.

"Okay, so the guy has a perfect face." He shrugged. "So what?" Kyo's voice came low and impassive, his tone seeming almost apologetic for not having taken me seriously. "It probably just means that he's never done this before."

"Or..." I countered, that same ominous feeling settling back into the pit of my stomach. "It mean's that he's _really_ good."

"Tch. Please." Kyo scoffed. "Just watch. He probably goes down in the first round."

"We'll see." I murmured back.

As the two of us settled in to observe the final match of the evening, the two fighters took their starting positions. Crouching his lean yet muscularly built frame at the knee as he slid his right dominant leg out, the foreigner lowered and shifted his center of gravity to stabilize and ground himself. Cocking one arm just behind his head in a fist, the other arm was gracefully extended towards his opponent in an almost antagonistic gesture.

And I swear...when I looked in the direction of his friend, it looked as if the Japanese playboy was about to burst into a fit of obscene laughter with the way he held his fist to his mouth.

"Huh..." This came a muttered breath next to me. "Well _that's_ weird." Kyo muttered.

"What?" I curiously shifted my gaze from the ring to Kyo's profile.

"Well..." Kyo began in a low murmur as he took in the stance. "... _clearly_ this guy's a cocky bastard... So I would have expected him to take a more aggressive position." He spoke, his tone slightly intrigued as he continued. "But that stance. It's _defensive_ Jiu-Jitsu." Kyo explained, his expression in the low light seeming just a bit perplexed with the furrow of his brows. "Maybe he knows what he's doing after all."

"How so?" Kyo's insight had me genuinely intrigued as I gave the small quirk of my head, taking in the foreigner's stance.

"Well, when you go up against someone bigger than you are, it's not a good idea to just jump right into the fray." Kyo stated matter of factly with a small shrug. "If you want to learn about your opponent, _especially_ when they have a physical advantage, you don't go first."

"Really?" I asked, my own, thin brows furrowing in open interest.

"Yeah." Kyo nodded once, murmuring lowly in a slightly deeper voice. "That's what I would do." Though his features still held that faint level of baffled confusion mixed in curiosity. "But his stance seems...off." He muttered. "Wrong."

"How so?" My emerald gaze flitted between Kyo and the ring as we both waited for the match to begin.

"I don't know." Kyo shook his head lightly. "But it doesn't look natural." He said. "It seems almost like this is a stance he's only _seen_." He murmured lowly. "Not one he's ever really _used_ himself." As my gaze shifted away from Kyo's profile back to the stranger in the ring, that same ominous feeling creeped its tendrils through my body.

I didn't like this.

Not one bit.

And...I didn't know why.

The man stood his ground. Holding his defensive form, his muscles tensed and ready for an assault as he simply stared his opponent down. Waiting. And in one swift, fluid motion, the opposing fighter flew into action with a declarative kiai. A sharp vocal release of energy signaling the start of the match as he rushed across the mats to the foreigner's corner where the man still held that strange stance. Completely unmoved. And I, in turn, held my breath as I waited for the inevitable impact.

Three.

Two.

One.

But as the man's opponent crossed the ring and charged him head on, closing the distance between them, the foreigner swiftly snatched his wrist in a flurry of motion. The other free hand latching to the back of his head to grip his hair as the man used this grip and his opponent's forward momentum to send him head-long into the mesh fence behind him. And as his opponent ricocheted off the chain-link fence, the man spun and shifted on his axis, thrusting his leg up and out to the side as his torso dropped past his waist. His hand touching the ground beneath him to keep him centered as his foot made brutal contact with his opponent's jaw, sending him stumbling back into the fence. Again.

"Well, _that_ was a dick move." Kyo muttered in disdain, and I found myself agreeing whole heartedly with his assessment of the underhandedness of this unsavory tactic.

And as my gaze flitted away from the ring for a spit second, I noticed the absolutely horrifying expression on the face of the foreigner's friend. The posh man was now openly amused by the foreigner's display. Almost undigifyingly so. Seemingly fighting off laughter as he barely managed to hold himself together over his friend's baiting cheap shot.

As if he had _just_ heard the punchline to a privately shared joke.

With his opponent's recovery from the cage the two began to go at each other. Toe to toe. Blow for blow as the foreigner held his own against the larger man. Completely at ease in the hell fire of this battle as he seemed to feed off the friction of each brutal impact. The two now blurring together in a flurry of hands, fists, arms, legs, knees, and feet.

The guy was insanely fast.

 _Much_ faster than the man he was sparring with.

And Kyo had been right about his style of fighting.

It was aggressive. _Really_ aggressive. And the defensive opening had just been a ploy to lure his opponent in.

Just as I found myself trying to catch my breath from the overwhelming stimulation of his movements, a vicarious adrenaline rush washing up and over me, my stomach hit the floor with the way the man's elbow viciously slammed into the other guys face in favor of a fist. The foreigner's opponent staggered back, stunned from the blow as I took a sharp breath in.

And another low curse slipped through Kyo's lips in echoed response to my open shock.

"This doesn't make sense." Kyo hissed.

"What doesn't make sense?" I asked, my eyes still riveted by this violent display.

"This guy." He muttered, his tone coming in disjointed confusion. "He has no style."

"Huh?" I felt as baffled as Kyo now sounded.

"He has no style." He repeated as we both continued to watch the match, unable to tear our eyes away from the center stage. "I see bits and pieces of...well... _everything_."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my brows now pulled into a furrow as I tried to catch what he had already noticed.

Because the guy's moves seemed so meticulous and precise. Cold and calculated as they were brutally effective.

What was Kyo talking about?

"I see attacks in judo, karate, jiu-jitsu, boxing..." His voice trailed off with the confounded shake of his head. "But he never settles on one specific art form. And some moves seem to be a blend." His voice finally dying into the growing hum of the crowd.

As my attention went back to the center ring, the two fighters drifted towards each other. Slowly. Both going to throw a kick. As the man's opponent went high, aiming for the man's vulnerable rib cage, the guy quickly changed tactics and dipped a bit lower into his own center of gravity. Spinning out on his center and aiming low for his opponent's exposed leg to sweep it out from underneath him as his opponent toppled over to the floor beneath him.

The excited buzz of the crowd began to grow around us as I noticed some of the spectators had actually taken out their cell phones in order to film this match. Yet the man's friend. His Japanese host. The playboy now seemed an unmoved statue among the mass of flesh surrounding him. His unnerving stillness caused me to look away as I saw the foreigner lifted on the balls of his feet. Sprinting across the mats, the man rushed his opponent only to completely _pass_ him.

Reaching the end of the ring, the man jumped to scale the mesh screen, pivoting on his foot and pushing off as he extended his leg out to viciously strike his opponent with a head shot. Having wielded his foot as a weapon, his opponent staggering back in completely dazed shock as the man landed on his feet in a stealthy crouched position. Like a coiled spring, ready to release at any moment.

My jaw fell slack as the crowd erupted into boisterous cheers. And another sharp, unseemly curse spewed forth from Kyo's lips.

"What the hell kind of move was _that_?"

"...I don't know..." I whispered back, in horrified awe at what we had just witnessed.

The two fighters quickly reengaged each other on the stage in this almost barbaric dance of bodies and limbs. The man's leg lifted to swing out and make contact with the vulnerability of his opponent's ribs for another violent blow. But this attack was halted as his opponent caught his leg, latching on and bringing it safely to his core as it came tucked underneath his arm in a vice like grip. Yet the man. He just smiled. A smile so completely wrong and filled with vindictive mirth before he grappled his opponent by the back of the head, steadying himself as his other leg left the ground to be hoisted over to hook his opponent's shoulder.

With the momentum of this move and the full weight of his body throwing off his opponent's balance, his adversary buckled under the the added weight and toppled over as two were quickly sent back down to the mat with a sickening thud. The man stayed straddled along his opponent's torso like a claimed thrown, that malicious smirk of a smile playing along his lips before he delivered the final, vicious blow of his fist along the front of his opponent's face. A quick, single jab that completely stunned and disoriented his prey to the resounding cheers of the crowd.

Lifting his lean, muscular frame from the thrown of his subdued opponent, the man stood to claim and absorb his victory. But instead of basking in the glory of his win and the ravenous adoration he was now receiving from the crowd, he simply loomed over his dazed opponent. Staring down at him with a frigid...almost lifelessly impassive expression. And at first, I was so taken by this cold expression he held that I missed the more subtle movement of his foot as he carefully placed it along the man's throat and held it there. The gentle application of force and pressure along the man's windpipe caused his eyes to flutter and roll into the back of his head, yet the foreigner's expression remained so frighteningly unmoved.

Unfazed...even as his opponent's hand began to involuntarily fist and weakly tremble. The man merely giving the slight cant of his head in response.

"Kyo!" My voice grew in alarm as I drew his attention to what was happening in the ring.

"Somebody!" I tried to shout above the cheering crowd to anyone that would hear me. "Somebody _stop_ him!"

Did nobody see what was happening? What the man was doing? Somebody needed to stop him. Anybody. Before he ended up killing the guy on the floor.

But as if he had somehow managed to hear my cry above the upheaval of the crowd, I suddenly found myself bathed and submerged...drowning in a frigid ocean of vibrant pale blue as the foreigner looked directly at me.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 ***Screams out like M** **arcus Aurelius* ARE YOU NOT ENTERTAINED?!**

 **...ehem... And I digress...**

 **Thank you all for reading this chapter! I hope that the fight sequencing wasn't too terribly confusing, and that you got a decent image of the fight painted in your mind. I must admit, I had to watch many an MMA videos on youtube in order to gather and collect these described moves. As a side note...bonus points to anyone that can point out the connection of the defensive Jiu-Jitsu and the little 'inside joke'.**

 **Also, to GalaxyVisionary, I hope that...thus far...I have done honor to your archetype of Kyo and your original character, Gina/Kitty.**

 **And, finally, this chapter was done to a little bit of mood music with songs such as "Smack Down" and "Rawk Fist" by Thousand Foot Krutch.**


	5. To The Victor

**A/N: Okay. So, a few things here for this chapter.**

 **For those of you who have not already met, I would like to formally introduce my original character, Kristean Mitchell. Yeah... He's a bit of an asshole. And once you meet him, you'll really get to hate him.**

 **Thank you to Galaxy Visionary for allowing me to use yet another of her amazing original characters, Gina/Kitty from her story 'No Strings Attached.' They say that imitation is the greatest form of flattery, so I have really worked to tailor my own style to suit your character, my friend.**

 **And thank you to all who have taken of your precious time to read and review thus far. Honestly, I had wanted to do this epilogue in one solid piece. But the longer it got the more I realized I needed to split it in two in order not to rush myself and ruin the integrity of the ending. I still have so much planned for this epilogue, and I didn't want it to feel cumbersome and daunting to read. So, I give you part one of this epilogue! Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

I suddenly found myself bathed and submerged...drowning in a frigid, unforgiving ocean of vibrant pale blue as the foreigner looked directly at me.

As if...

As if he had somehow managed to actually hear my cry above the upheaval of the crowd.

And I couldn't breath.

My lungs and heart had seized up with the way this guy just _looked_ at me. And in the commotion of the crowd as he just _stared_ at me, his foot lifted from his victim's throat mere seconds before the referee rushed over to assist him in taking his victory. His riveting, exotic gaze ripped from mine as his wrist was claimed by the referee. The vanquished man heaved his chest in a dazed stupor as he laid sprawled on the mat. Desperate for the breath he had been so maliciously deprived of as staff working this event came to aid him out of the arena and the foreigner was led to the middle of the ring as the victor. Hailed and crowned in glory to the resounding applause and cheers of the crowd. And as his arm was raised by the ref, his fingers furled in a loose fist, I watched his friend as he stood on the sidelines in the crowd.

The enigmatic, beguiling young businessman delicately place his index and middle finger along his lips, pursing them in a tender kiss before raising his hand, fingers spread to the foreigner in a sign of victory. An alluring smile played along his lips. His dark gaze transfixed approvingly in admiration towards his champion as he reveled in his friend's success.

And this moment of glory they experienced together caused that same sick feeling in the bottom of my stomach to return. Because...somehow...through this gulf between them, they actually managed to _share_ this moment.

"Dammit." This sharp hiss of a curse drew my attention away from the ring. "There's no way in hell that guy should have been allowed to fight." Kyo muttered under his breath before his gaze flitted away from the center stage to me.

"It's a free for all tournament, Kyo." I murmured back, though I found it difficult to offer up any form of legitimate argument against this.

But...I tried.

"That means _anyone_ can sign up to fight."

As I said this, his expression became so wholly conflicted. Filled with what looked like a mixture of defensive protectiveness and irritation, marred in with something akin to anguish.

"And _that's_ why I don't want you fighting." And these words, along with the expression of his face, caused my gaze to fall away to the floor below me.

Suddenly the words he'd yelled at me during our fight came echoing as they reverberated in my mind with the pained look now etched upon his face.

 _'Why do I have to tell you that I don't want you getting hurt?! Why can't you figure that out for yourself?!'_

And I knew that if I were to respond to this. Now. With the way I could _feel_ that he was looking at me. If I were to meet his gaze now. Actually _see_ the look on his face. I knew. I would stumble and falter in my resolve. Give in to him and actually back out of my fight like he wanted me to.

"No." I murmured with the shake of my head as my emerald gaze stayed fixed along my shoes. "I'm not doing this with you right now, Kyo." This came a fragile whisper as I avoided his pointed stare. "Not tonight." And when he didn't seem to argue over this, remaining silent beside me, I gave a small, puffed sigh of relief.

"I'm going to check on the on the other guy." I said, still avoiding his stare. "To see if he's okay." I finally gained the courage to spare a side-glance his way as he gave a small, silent nod of understanding to my concern before I continued. "Meet me out front and we'll leave after this?" I asked. "Your place?"

"Yeah. That sounds okay, I guess." Kyo muttered with a small shrug. "Kazuma's out for the weekend so we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Perfect." I retorted with the small smirk of a smile. "Sounds like a hot date to me, Kitty Cat." A helpless chuckle slipped passed my smirking lips towards the deep guttural growl that emanated from Kyo's throat.

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"Well..." I giggled, my smile now turning completely innocent and just a bit coy. "...I really don't know." I batted my green eyes at him for show as his expression crumpled into a scowl.

"Kitty..." Kyo gave another growl towards my playful teasing.

"Okay, okay." I mumbled. "Fine." This came as a ceasefire to our little tiff. "Sheesh... You _really_ need to learn how to take a joke." I murmured with a light grumble. "Laugh." My fingers absentmindedly drifted towards my face to delicately tuck a dark tendril of hair behind my ear as I whispered. "...maybe smile... Just a little." And as Kyo turned around to leave, not having heard me, I hollered to him to gain his attention.

"Hey!" This came above the buzz of the crowd as he glanced over his shoulder. "Tonight's your turn to decide what we do."

With that reminder I watched as his expression turned an adorable mix of uncomfortably embarrassed and overtly lubricious in equal parts before an attractive cockeyed smirk lifted the corner of his lip. Shaking his head, he turned away.

"Then why the hell did we come here?" He hollered back with the undertone a slight snorted chuckle, and I couldn't help the amused grin that lifted my own lips as I watched him walk away before turning in the opposite direction.

Before I left...I _needed_ to know.

I needed to believe...that I could actually _do_ this.

Fight. And win.

Or...at the very least...come out the other side once it was all said and done.

I needed to see the man who had lost. To look at him, and know that this loss was not the end for him. In order to alleviate this fear deep inside of me. Because what I had admitted to Kyo was brutal. Vulnerable. Fragile. Raw. Truth.

 _'I just...I don't want to be afraid all the time. I want to...I want to prove something to myself.'_

So, I went to see the fallen.

Making my way to the back rooms where the fighters changed out and were tended to, I slowed my pace to a stall just outside. Lingering. Waiting...in hopes of catching a glimpse of the defeated man. To witness his continuation in the aftermath of his loss.

...wondering just exactly how badly he had been hurt...

But as I waited, that sudden sense of cold dread washed up and over me. Starting at the pit of my stomach to completely overwhelm my body as it sent that same familiar electrical charge up my spine to crown of my head. That _same_ exact sensation...

As I turned to glance behind me, I was completely taken aback in absolute horrified shock.

It was him.

 _Him_.

The foreigner.

And he stood _so_ close behind me that I had to fully turn to back up out of his personal space in order to regain and take back my own.

How had he managed to get so close to me without me having even noticed? Had I truly been _that_ unaware of my surroundings? Or was it that he had just been _that_ stealthy in his approach?

My anger and outrage over the alarming violation of my physical boundaries was washed away underneath his cold stare. I was bathed and submerged. Baptized and drowned in the unforgiving, frigid waters of his gaze.

And I was overcome with this crippling fear at the sudden realization of exactly how alone I was. With him.

My eyes darted all around me for a desperate, fleeting moment before landing back upon his looming form. And the more I looked, the more I began to notice.

His height and stature was oddly unassuming, towering only mere inches over me. Coming no taller than Kyo if I were to have compared them. Though lean in his features and by no means bulky or cumbersome in his muscular form, the man's body was _far_ more built than what I had been able notice at a distance in the crowd.

Masculine shoulders and a well defined chest gave way to a toned and completely ripped abdomen which seemed to make the almost unbelievable athletic display of strength and agility I had seen in the ring all the more believable for him to have pulled off. With a core as strong as his appeared, I imagined it would not have been terribly difficult for him to have lifted his own weight to literally scale his opponent to take him down.

Down. My fearful emerald gaze wandered down helplessly. Close enough to the man now to notice the classic muscular contours of his lower abdomen and hips framing the dark, thin, fine line of hair that trailed from just below his naval. Dipping beneath the veil of his athletic shorts to lay claim and declare his manhood.

I took a sharp inhalation as his body moved, my eyes snapping upward towards his face as he advanced towards me. Again. Closing the gap I had made between us with the side smirk of a smile. His lips moved, forming words I didn't understand as his tongue fell hard on consonants and foreign sounds. And yet his voice was so strangely hypnotic in its entrancing melodic pattern as he spoke. A bit gruff with the way he produced his words, but smooth and refined as they formed along his lips. Superior and intimidating at the same time as being mesmerizingly irresistible in its sound.

Yet I didn't understand a word he said as he continued his advance.

And...I wanted him to stop.

Feeling like a cornered animal I instinctively raised my arm palm out in a desperate attempt to keep space between us. My hand making contact with the hard surface of his abdomen, his skin coming warm from his recent physical excretion as his riveting, exotic gaze slowly drifted from my face to where I now touched him. His muscles unintentionally tensing underneath my fingertips before his exotic pale blue eyes lifted to meet my gaze once more.

"What do you think you're doing?" My voice came stern as I tried to hold his intimidating gaze, my expression furrowing into an irked scowl.

"Mm..." A different voice entirely hummed from just behind the foreigner. "You do not speak English, then..?" This question came delicately poised and precise in my native tongue, my gaze drawn to the fighter's enigmatic Japanese host as he peered at the screen of his high priced phone. "Very well..." He mused as his dark smoldering eyes lifted from his device, his delicate lithe tone a bit put upon as he gave a small sigh. "I suppose I shall play interpreter, then."

The man exchanged words with the victor in his foreign tongue to breach this barrier between the two of us before his dark, smoldering onyx gaze met mine once more. The foreigner continuing to simply stare at me, now the silent spectator as I listened.

"My friend was merely stating that he took notice of you noticing him." My emerald gaze widened at this as I remembered the foreigner having looked right at me in the aftermath of his victory. "He wishes to know if you were entertained." The man spoke with a level of decorum offset by the alluring smile that began to play along his delicate lips as his Caucasian counterpart spoke once more, his voice coming just a bit deeper than his host.

And the two spoke as one as his words were overlapped and translated for me to comprehend.

 _'Do you like what you see?'_

"Who _are_ you?" I quipped in irritation towards this bold, insinuating question, the scowl along my features only deepening as the eloquent Japanese playboy relayed my query.

And the man held his exotic pale blue gaze locked with mine as his host spoke to him before that same lascivious smirk twitched at the corner of his lips. And then they parted in two consecutive words. One immediately following the other as he spoke.

"Kristean Mitchell."

And my brows furrowed towards these two words.

"Krist-tee-anne?" I gave the helpless cant of my head as the smirk of a smile tugged just a little further along the corner his perfect lips.

"Kris." He stated again, shortening the word for me.

"Kris..?" I echoed again numbly as his host gave the light, almost effeminate chuckle towards my perplexed expression.

"It's his name, young miss." The man's dazzling features shaped in a coy expression as he continued, his words slowed and pointed as he held my gaze. "He is introducing himself to you." He said with a sugar sweet smile before the foreigner murmured something to him in that mesmeric tone.

And the man let out an effeminate giggle to what his friend had just said, his candy sweet smile turning just a bit sinful in its alluring expression.

"He wants me to tell you that he likes the sound of his name from your lips." He smiled to me. "Apparently...he finds it _quite_ enchanting."

Before I could reproach or even respond to this outlandish statement as I glared at the foreigner he spoke again, seemingly undeterred by my open discouragement of his advances.

"Hm, yes." The man purred with the slight bob of his head in agreement to what his friend had just said, his dark gaze drifting back to me with an amused expression. "He says that since you so brazenly demanded to know his name, it is only fair that you give yours in turn, hm?" And this caused my jaw to go slack and my stomach to automatically tighten and churn as my emerald gaze landed into that frigid ocean of pale blue once more.

...he wanted to know my name..?

"...what..?" My voice manifested past my lips far more weakly than I had wanted it to, the man giving another demure chuckle as his friend merely stared at me.

Waiting.

"Your name, young miss..." The man coaxed sweetly, his expression open and inviting as his dark alluring gaze held mine.

"Kitty."

The two men exchanged glances over this before the exotic visitor calling himself 'Kris' repeated my sobriquet along his lips with a questioning expression to his host. The man merely gave his friend the playful, curled simper of a smile before his dark lashed fluttered to veil his smoldering gaze. In an almost erotic display, the man produced an unnaturally seductive feline like mewl that caused his friend to snort a laugh of amusement. As the foreigner gave a chuckled response, the man broke into undignified laughter at what had been said as a beguiling smile broke across his face.

"What?!" I snapped in irritation, gaining their attention as the man stilled his amusement with a sigh.

"My apologies, young miss." The man cooed with the striking simper of a smile and purse of his lips. "My friend simply implied something about your name that... _amused_ me."

"What did he just say about me?" My scowl deepened in disbelief as I felt the heat of embarrassment paint my cheeks.

"Mm..." The man hummed with that same insinuating smile and amused expression. "Much like _everything_ that hails from America, my friend is a bit tactless in his manners and possesses a rather _crass_ vernacular." He mused, the smile playing along his delicate lips twitching just a bit further along his strikingly attractive features. "An acquired taste, I assure you. But I fear that to translate his words for you would somehow... _diminish_...the euphemism he was attempting to express." And the way this Japanese socialite leered at me, his dark obsidian gaze lingering along my body in misogynistic appraisal, made me feel physically sick and belittled.

I was use to being sexualized with the way I dedicated my time in making myself desirable for Kyo. Though it was slightly demeaning, it also somehow held a level of flattery. That, on the surface at least, I was viewed as appealing and worthy of being noticed by others.

But this man...

The Japanese socialite.

With the way _he_ looked at me...

Spoke down to me in that highbrow, sophisticated tone...

He had just completely objectified me.

Dehumanized me.

And _that_...

I had never felt _that_ before.

As I began to sink lower into this feeling of worthlessness his voice drew my attention once more. His innocent, boyish features shaped in that same coy expression as he gave a delicately pursed smile to me.

"But I have it on good authority that what my friend lacks in eloquence and charm he more than makes up for in... _stamina_." He said this with such a sweet candy smile that seemed so out of place for what he was implying about the foreigner.

"Yeah right." I scoffed, attempting to avoid openly rolling my eyes as I glowered at _both_ of them. "Is he God's gift to women, too?" I quipped, my gaze flitting between the two men. "Don't tell me..." I muttered sourly, taking in the foreigner's passive expression as he listened to my voice. "...did his mom also tell him that he was beautiful and perfect and the precious apple of her eye?" With this question the man gave the sharp, disapproving cluck of his tongue as his expression dropped from that sweet innocent countenance to something far darker.

"Oh... My dear sweet girl." The man murmured, his eyes darkened as his voice dropped for effect. "Be _very_ careful where you tread." As he spoke, something about him seemed to change imperceptibly as he held my gaze fixed. "The man lives by cold, dispassioned reason. Ruled by his head." He continued just a little lower as he spoke of his friend. "But his _mother_..." The man murmured this maternal title with the softest twitch of a smile, as if he were sharing a deep dark secret with me that he intended to keep from the foreigner. "...his mother has crowned his heart in thorns."

Why was he sharing this?

Something that didn't seem his share.

...exactly how close were these two..?

"So...for your best interest, young miss..." The man murmured, stirring my attention once more. "I will refrain from telling him what you have just said, hm?" He held my gaze with an almost predatory...entrancing stare. "But I caution you not to speak of his mother again." With this dark warning my gaze went from this beguiling young businessman to the foreigner standing silently beside him. "...for _your_ sake, my dear..."

"Okay, then..." This came long and drawn out as I felt myself growing more unnerved under their mutual predatory stare. "Thanks for the warning." I said, combing slender fingertips through my hair to brush it back away from my face in an attempt to bolster my confidence in front of these strange men. "Now I need to leave and prepare for my own fight." I used this as my exit, and the dark, gorgeous, enigmatic playboy let out the most obscene string of laughter I had ever heard as he laced delicate fingertips along his lips.

"What?!" He giggled out, his dark onyx orbs grew large in amused disbelief. "You?" He scoffed through another chuckled laugh. "A fighter?" His smoldering gaze roamed my body with that same hint of misogynistic animosity. "But you're a _woman_." This came so condescending in tone as it was spat from his delicate lips.

"Excuse me?" I snapped, but before I could really lay into him, the foreigner cut me off to gain his host's attention.

I watched as the two dialogued, exchanging words in the foreigner's language. And as I stood a silent witness to this interaction the strangest thing seemed to occur. That same odd, overbearing tension filled the air, emanating from the two men as it turned the small gap between them absolutely electric. The foreigner said something to the man then as his exotic ocean gaze trailed along the man's slender, meticulously dressed body. And the man ceased his laughter. His amused expression fell. And the foreigner's thin perfect lips twitched in a sardonically entertained smirk as dark orbs drifted to the ground below.

"What did he just say?" I asked, now more perplexed than ever before as the man's gaze lifted to me.

Though his expression was smoothed and stoically schooled, that dark gaze of his seethed with what I could only describe as rage.

"He intimated a great many things." This came lowly murmured as the man's tone dropped to match the look of disdain he spared me. "But if you simply _must_ know..." He continued, his voice cool and lacking in his former amusement as he spoke. "...when I made mention of your intent to fight, he said that for me to disrespect your skills as a fighter would be to openly disrespect myself."

"...what..?" I stuttered out, my jaw going completely slack as I met that exotic pale blue gaze. "You just _defended_ me?" My voice came so thready and weak, my emerald eyes held riveted to his commanding gaze, my expression completely bemused as I gave the cant of my head. " _Seriously_?"

"Please." The man gave a condescending snort, having turned his attention once again to that expensive phone of his. "Do not flatter yourself, little girl." His voice came a bit lower, sounding bitter as his striking ethereal features came aglow from the device in his hand. "His words were meant to insult us both."

"Really?" My tone came equal parts irked, baffled, and just hurt as the man continued to avoid my gaze for his device.

"Mm, yes..." He hummed in that delicate lilt of his with the attractive purse of his lips. "Mr. Mitchell fancies himself a bit of an equal opportunity offender." This came in a mixture of admiration laced in bitter loathing towards his friend as he finished. "He does not endear himself to much of anyone."

The man then lifted his gaze from the phone in order to converse with his companion in the foreigner's tongue. As the two spoke to each other, the foreigner gave a small nod before once again turning his attention to me. That pale blue gaze holding me in place out of renewed fear with the look he gave me. That same look. That stare that he had pierced me with in the ring in the aftermath of his victory. An intimidating, intense predatory stare that I was defenseless against as he silently stepped towards me once more without a single word. And this silent, stealthy approach caused me to shrink back to the wall behind me as an enticingly attractive side smirk twitched at the corner of his thin, perfect lips towards my reaction.

As if he were... _amused_...by knowing that, on some level at least, I was afraid of him.

And he just held my gaze, that same little smile playing along his lips as he took another almost taunting step towards me, seeming fascinated at the way my body helplessly responded to this action.

I didn't want him any closer to me.

He knew this.

And then he completely disregarded it as he took yet another step closer to me.

"Please, young miss." The man behind him murmured in a less amused lilted drawl. "There's really no need to be so alarmed." I heard him speak in that same delicate, condescending tone. "Mr. Mitchell merely wished to bid you farewell. Nothing more."

So they were leaving.

I felt such a rush of relief that it literally manifested into a physical sigh from my nose. Another tell to amuse the blue eyed hunter standing before me. Yet I remained unmoved from where I had been backed into the wall.

Maybe if I held still he would lose this bizarre fascination with me and leave with his host.

But as I braced myself for whatever was to happen, hoping this whole thing would be over quickly, I heard another voice. One that was so intimately familiar as my gaze shot towards my lifeline.

"Kitty?!" Kyo shouted through the distance as he quickly approached this scene, fear and concern clearly written all over his face. "What the hell?" He snapped, his worry and outrage not directed at me, but at what he saw.

It was then, in the midst of this chaos, that pale blue eyes moved from my face, drifting in a curious little side glance to Kyo before landing on me once more. And the expression that shaped that strangely impassive mask alarmed me more than anything else that had occurred this evening. Because my captor's alluring exotic features shifted with the way he smiled at me. A knowing smile, as if he had just discovered a deep dark secret.

And he smiled. A wide, frightening predatory smile promising pain as thin, perfect lips curled in pleasure to reveal a malicious intent.


	6. Go The Spoils

"Kitty?!" Kyo shouted through the distance, gaining my attention away from my captor as he quickly approached this scene, fear and concern clearly written all over his face. "What the hell?" He snapped, his worry and outrage not directed at me, but at what he saw.

And it was then, in the midst of all this chaos, that exotic pale blue eyes slowly drifted away from my face. The foreigner gave a curious little side glance to Kyo before landing on me once more. And the expression that began to shape that strangely impassive, perfect mask alarmed me more than anything else. Because my captor's alluring exotic Caucasian features shifted with the way he smiled at me. A knowing smile, as if he had just discovered a deep, dark secret.

As if wanting to test the waters of this new-found discovery, the stranger boldly advanced towards me to completely close the gap between us. Bracing himself with the hand he placed along the wall, my heart seized up in my chest as he leaned in closer to me. Slowly.

Until.

"Hey!" Kyo snapped angrily. "Get away from her!" He snarled out as the foreigner gently dipped his head, veiling his expression as he halted his advances, causing the delicate chain around his neck to dangle and sway like a pendulum.

But he didn't retreat or step back from me, either.

And I watched with a renewed sense of horror as the foreigner's thin, perfect lips curled in pleasure towards this response to reveal a malicious intent. I saw how he bit down along his bottom lip, as if to physically restrain himself from openly laughing. And I knew then that he had been roused by Kyo's protective outburst in my defense.

"Kyo..." I whimpered his name helplessly, my eyes meeting his enraged russet gaze.

Wordlessly imploring him with my eyes.

 _No!_

 _Don't_ _ **do**_ _this, Kyo!_ _ **Please**!_

 _This is what he_ _ **wants**_ _!_

And I knew that this was true. Because of the way that this stranger had been so entertained with sick satisfaction by my own reactions. And now it seemed as if his interest had been rekindled anew by having gotten such a rise from Kyo.

Kyo was playing right into this guys hands.

But as Kyo advanced towards us, feeding into this stranger's gratification, another sharp, hostile voice quickly gained the attention of this little gathering.

"Hey!" The officer acting as security detail for this event hollered to us as he approached with a forceful, authoritative gate. "Is there a problem here?"

All of us turned towards the police officer then, and the foreigner backed up and out of my personal space as if nothing were happening. Nothing at all. All of our expressions held varying stages of surprise. All of us, that was, except the Japanese socialite. The young businessman's expression quickly shifted from mild astonishment to one of knowing recognition. A slow smile creeping along his delicate, striking features.

"Officer Hayashi?" The man purred with the simper of a smile, feigning surprise as his features shaped themselves into that perfect expression of boyish innocence before giving the small, curious cant of his head.

"Akito..?" The officer uttered in open shock and befuddled confusion at recognizing the young man, the look upon his face one of stunned curiosity mixed in veiled fear.

As if this young man somehow intimidated him. A fact he seemed to want to hide.

"My apologies." The officer murmured lightly, collecting his wits with the bow of his head in open respect to the young man. "I didn't realize it was you." And the young man merely offered him the enticing simper of a smile as he spoke, his voice lithe and beguiling in its captivating nature.

"So _you_ are working this event, then?" He questioned sweetly with a pursed smile.

"Yeah." The officer nodded, his gaze still cautiously scrutinizing the scene he had just stumbled upon.

"Excellent." This came purred through delicate, attractive lips.

"So..." The police officer slowly drawled, dubiously eyeing the situation and this tense atmosphere before meeting the young man's dark gaze once more questioningly. "Is everything okay, here?" And at this question, the man's boyish expression came all the more innocent and coy.

"Why, officer...I really don't know." The man delicately lilted, eyes wide as his expression came a bit baffled. "My friend was merely introducing himself to this young woman." His mannerisms and body language appeared so open and honest as he spoke to the officer, but neither one of them so much as even _looked_ at me when I was mentioned before the young businessman continued. "Then...quite unexpectedly...this boy seemed to become so very upset." His expression now came almost theatrically puzzled, eyes wide. "I really don't know _what_ happened, officer." The man's charismatic velvet voice came so candid as I numbly listened to him spin these lies upon lies about what had just happened. "It must have been some form of miscommunication." He assured the officer with a small nod. "A cultural misunderstanding?" The man continued to weave his many eloquent excuses with that demure candy sweet smile. "My friend...he _does_ tend to come on rather strong. And he has the tendency to be quite forthright in his conduct and mannerisms." He finished with the flash of a devilishly handsome, debonair smile to the police officer.

Lies.

He had just fed law enforcement the most unbelievable lies.

As the officer's dubious gaze flitted from the high class socialite to his foreign friend, I could see that he wasn't exactly buying this story. How _could_ he? His doubting expression as his eyes roamed over the stranger said he didn't trust what he had just heard.

"So...this guy." He eyed the foreigner suspiciously, the stranger holding that eerily impassive expression as he brazenly stared down the officer. "He's with _you,_ then?"

"...he is..." The man purred, his sweet innocent looks offset and horribly marred with the sinful simper of a smile.

"...I see..." The officer grumbled, less than pleased with the situation before he let out an audible sigh with the drop of his gaze and shake of his head. "Well...you two have a good evening, then." He stated as he made way to depart for the evening. "And...let me know if there's any trouble." And the man gave a triumphantly victorious grin as he offered the small, demure nod to the officer.

"Most certainly, officer."

As the officer turned to leave, my heart sank to the pit of my stomach in fearful disbelief. He was leaving. Just like that, he was _leaving_. Despite not having believed a word he had been told, he was leaving. And my horror stricken gaze drifted from the officer's back to the well dressed man.

Who _was_ this man, to ward off and intimidate the authorities? Yakuza? Could he _really_ be a gang affiliate? He seemed too demure. Too delicately refined and well mannered for the warmongering type. But with how he had managed to turn away the police officer who seemed to want nothing to do with him.

...he seemed so terrifyingly untouchable...

"Wait..." I breathed, desperately willing the officer to turn around as the man turned to me, deigning to spare me a glance before that same little smirk of a smile twisted his lips.

As if he found my genuine cry for help _'cute'_.

Cute...and utterly futile.

"Oh...and Masaaki." The man's candy sweet voice coaxed and lured the officer back by the strange informality of his given name. "You simply _must_ return to my estate one of these evenings, hm?" He mused with the small purse of his lips, that dark smoldering gaze lingering uncomfortably along the officer in consideration as he spoke. "My sweet, precious Kagura is simply _beside_ herself that you have not come to visit with her as of late." This statement seemed to make the officer openly uneasy as his gaze fell away from the man's face to the floor below.

"I've been busy."

"Mm, yes." The man purred, his gaze drifting along the police officer with the alluringly snide smirk of a smile. "I'm sure that you have." This fell heavy with insinuation as that smirk twitched just a bit further along the man's delicate lips before they came attractively pursed. "But you _know_ how she gets when you delay your appointments with her." His tone came filled and laced in disapproval with the cluck of his tongue. "She becomes absolutely insufferable, and I'm made to bear the brunt of her ill temper. And when _that_ happens..." These words were uttered with the slight deepening of his voice for effect as he continued. "...you _know_ that my business suffers." The man's gaze came as dark and foreboding as this statement. "...so I suggest that you clear your schedule for her, Masaaki." This seemed so suspiciously like a threat that it sent a chill down my spine with his final whispered word. " _Soon_." Like the final nail in this officer's coffin to bury him and make him disappear as he gave the weak, obedient not of his head.

"I'll make some time this weekend."

"See that you do, Masaaki." The man murmured darkly with a small smile as the officer began to walk away. "And _do_ send my regards to your beautiful wife, Karin." He called to the policeman's back. "... _and_ your precious daughter, Shiori, won't you?" This came tacked on in a final parting shot as the officer hung his head and left to go about his business.

As the officer walked away into the distance, the young man scrutinized him further through a smoldering squinted gaze as he gave the small cant of his head, biting lightly on his lower lip.

"I _do_ so love a man in uniform." The man purred salaciously with a small chuckle before turning to me with an unabashedly cheeky grin.

And it was then...with the look on his face and the way that police officer just left us to return to his job of crowd control...I knew that there was no help coming.

Not for me.

Not for us.

I quickly glanced towards Kyo before the man's delicate, effeminate lilt drew my attention once more.

"Now, my dear... Where were we..?" He murmured lowly with that candy sweet smile, a malicious darkness lurking within his black orbs as he stared me down.

As his delicate, perfect lips formed words the foreigner could understand, the two spoke to one another. Maybe the man was telling his friend of how he had turned the authorities away. Lied for him. Because as he spoke, the foreigner gave a smile before that pale blue gaze drifted towards me once more.

My heart stopped with the way he looked at me. Because it was cold. So very cold, even as he smiled. And it terrified me. Because the way he gazed upon me made me feel as if I had just been made an offering to him by his friend, and he was calculating how to best consume me in order to appease his appetite. This hunger lurking within that exotic pale blue ocean gaze.

I stepped back to the wall with a sharp, startled gasp as he stepped towards me once more without a single word spoken.

"Hey!" Kyo snarled angrily, his expression contorted in absolute rage. "Get away from her!" He stalked towards the stranger to confront him.

"Kyo, no." I whimpered out helplessly, but it was already too late.

The foreigner extended his arm to halt Kyo's heated approach upon his personal space, stopping him in his tracks with the palm of his hand against Kyo's chest. And the look he deigned to spare Kyo through that pale gaze left me colder than ever. And so very afraid. Because it was willed with a different type of hunger all together. An unrelenting, animalistic lust and desire for violence and pain directed at the one who dared to challenge him.

"That would be a _very_ foolish move, little boy." The foreigner's friend murmured delicately with the smirk of a smile playing along his lips, standing off to the side of us as a spectator.

His dark gaze slowly lifted from the phone in his hand to meet Kyo's enraged glare as he continued.

"I would not be so eager to start something that my friend will be _more_ than pleased to finish." He warned with the sweetest smile before the foreigner gave the softest push of his hand to lightly shove Kyo back a half step away from him.

And those frigid ice blue eyes turned their attention from Kyo towards me once more.

He seemed to pick up right where he had left off with me. Corning me to the wall as he braced himself to lean in. That same smug little side smirk of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his body drifted closer to mine. As he inched ever closer to me, his perfect lean face and bare torso slowly creeping to close the gap between our bodies, I suddenly felt so small. So vulnerable and exposed.

That alluring, hypnotic stare.

The surge of an electric currant that ran itself between our bodies.

The intoxicatingly masculine smell of his cologne and sweat.

The heat that radiated and _poured_ off of his bare flesh.

Flesh, pale and toned that had been marked and inked with fine, delicate script. No doubt in his language. What looked like a single word scrawled just underneath each of his exposed collar bones. Unable to decipher either word along his chest, I finally looked away. Away from him. Desperately searching _anywhere_ else. But him.

He lifted his other hand, still wrapped and bound from his fight, stretching out his fingertips towards my face. And Kyo once again yelled out to stop him. To intervene.

"Don't touch her!" Kyo snarled out in a growl of outrage.

But unlike before, when the stranger had been rather amused by gaining a rise out of Kyo through me, the foreigner now looked slightly irritated at being interrupted. Again. With the release of a breathless sigh through his slender nose, the foreigner's monotonous, hypnotic tone manifested past thin perfect lips. As he spoke, the Japanese playboy strategically maneuvered his delicate figure in front of Kyo. Separating him from the foreigner and I when he tried to approach as those dark orbs stared him down silently.

"Out of my way." Kyo growled, yet the man remained unmoved as a buffer, merely offering the small twitch of a smile.

"You remind me of someone who works for me." The man mused lightly with the cant of his head, scrutinizing Kyo's appearance. "Brash. Ill tempered." He spoke lowly, his tone and voice dropping just a bit deeper with the gravity of his gaze as he continued. "...and rather _stupid_." This came spat with a level of disdain toward the one he spoke of as he gave Kyo the same disapproving expression of mild disgust.

"My friend strongly suggests that I handle this situation before he becomes so inclined to deal with you himself." The man cautioned, his feather light tenor tainted with something just a bit darker with this warning he offered.

"Fine with me." Kyo spat in defiance towards this open threat. "I'll kick your ass _then_ his." And at this challenge the man merely let out a string of soft chortled laughter.

" _Me_?" He questioned dubiously. "Fight _you_?" This came snide and openly condescending. "Good _heavens_ , no." He chuckled out with the shake of his head and that sardonic smirk of a smile as his gaze dropped from Kyo's face to the device in his hand. "I simply _abhor_ the use of violence." This came with the soft, disapproving cluck of the tongue and purse of his delicate lips. "Violence. Physical altercation. These are just so uncivilized and a bit archaic, don't you think?" He mused to himself with a downward gaze to his phone as he held that poised stance, jacket draped over his arm as he continued to act as a buffer. "Merely tools of last resort for men too dull witted to get what they want through any other means."

"Myself, on the other hand..?" The man murmured as he finally lifted his gaze from the device in his hand. "...well..." He gave the light purse of his lips in a sinful smile to Kyo. " _I_ prefer to be more... _creative_...in my application of duress." A soft, eloquent chortle of laughter followed as he finished credulously. "I mean...honestly. Why on _earth_ would I devote my precious time to acquiring innumerable resources and connections if I never intend to use them, hm?"

"What the hell is _that_ suppose to mean?" Kyo snapped, his expression contorted in befuddled anger as he glared the man down with that hateful crimson gaze.

" _That_ means, little boy, that if you _insist_ on being insufferable and meddling in our affairs..." The man murmured lowly, his voice a bit deeper with intonation. "Then I will have you forcibly restrained and arrested for unlawful harassment." A small thrill of exhilaration flickered from the man's dark obsidian orbs with the power of this threat. "And once I have you removed from my sight, bound in handcuffs in front of your woman..." This came purred with the innocent simper of a boyish smile. "...then, strictly as a gentleman, I assure you..." He gave the credulous bob of his head through a sincere, doe eyed gaze. "I will just _have_ to insist that the young miss come with me to my estate to be looked after until you are otherwise _unencumbered_ by your temporary incarceration."

"You're full of it!" Kyo quipped angrily as he clenched his fingers into a tight fist.

" _Am_ I?" This came countered with a sinful smile and the raise of a well groomed brow.

The man threw a knowing glance past Kyo towards the officer he had just dismissed, causing Kyo to look over his shoulder. As I watched the two meet each others gaze through the crowd, the police officer began to obediently stalk towards us once more. As if wordlessly beckoned by the young man's dark ominous gaze before a hand came swiftly raised to halt his impending approach. Kyo turned towards the man again, only to be met with an alluring smile so wicked and foul that his tanned complexion paled in understanding.

"You still believe that I'm bluffing, little boy?" At this I witnessed Kyo's expression falter before his gaze helplessly flitted to me.

"Kyo." I whimpered out weakly towards his worried glance.

I wanted him to help.

No.

I needed him.

To help.

To intervene.

To protect me.

Save me.

But the rational part of my mind knew I couldn't risk him putting himself in jeopardy.

"Oh come now..." The man murmured to Kyo, drawing his crimson gaze away from me. "Don't look so glum." This came lightly chided with a soft chuckle towards Kyo's conflicted, pained expression. "Your woman will be just fine." He assured Kyo with a serious stare before his dark, smolder gaze flitted towards me. "I'm sure that she will be returned to you as soon as my friend is done with her." The slight cant of his head and that piercing stare in my direction followed his words. "... _whatever_ it is that he's planning on doing with her..." He mused quietly to himself with that smoldering squinted gaze before he turned to Kyo once more. "Honestly...some days I can't take him _anywhere_." His demure smile shifted into a blatantly cheeky grin before those delicate lips formed words in the foreigner's language.

As the young socialite prattled on to his Caucasian counterpart, I watched the smirk of a smile grace the foreigner's thin lips. The debonair playboy continued in his monologue to his friend as those riveting, exotic pale blue orbs imprisoned me. His blue eyes lingering along my face as his host spoke to him until the stranger eerily silenced the man with the raise of his hand, bringing his fingers and thumb together in order to stop him from speaking further. A wordless gesture the man did not seem to take kindly to as his devastatingly striking features dropped into a disapproving scowl at having been publicly shushed.

Those cold, frigid eyes lingered along my body now. Slowly roaming down then back up to my face as his lips remained twisted in the faintest smirk of a side smile.

And then...

Then...he made his approach. His move, as he descended upon me. Once again violating my personal space as my physical boundaries came perforated by his overwhelming presence. And I felt so overpowered by his show of dominance over me. His open disregard to my discomfort as he braced himself with the palm of his hand to the wall before leaning in. I felt vulnerable. Helpless. Victimized. Weak. Scared.

Yet I fought the urge to cower to him. To give him that satisfaction. So I held my ground as he leaned into me. Only just, meeting his seductive cockeyed smirk with a petulant glare of my own. And it aggravated me.

The way I needed to angle my chin slightly upward to meet his exotic gaze.

The way he took notice of this and smiled.

As if he found this... _cute_. My attempts at bravery in the face of his intimidation.

And underneath his obvious, blatant amusement. The underlying thrill of conquest that flickered along his placid expression. There was something else. Lingering there just beyond his pale gaze as he leaned in further to stare me down.

Childlike wonderment and curiosity.

Fascination.

As if, on some level, I had somehow managed to intrigue him. Pique his interest.

And silently. Ever so slowly. His amused expression shifted to reflect this interest with the subtle furrow of his brows. Lifting the free hand at his side, I watched as he slowly stretched slender, splayed fingertips towards my face as if longing to touch me. It was then that I coward back, biting my lip as I struggled to hold his gaze.

"...Gina..." I heard the raw, broken vulnerability of Kyo's voice as he helplessly murmured my real name, and the sound of it broke my heart as I felt the threat of tears well in my emerald eyes.

Then something new all together dew me in. Not words. But the softest emanation of sound from between the foreigner's teeth. Gentle and soothing as it attempted to lull me into a complaisant state.

"Shh..."

This tender, coaxing sound came followed with the movement of his fingers again. Slowly. Cautiously. As if not to startle me before they came tenderly brushed along the front of my face, beckoning me to just close my eyes. The sensation of his touch so oddly gentle and smooth. The small smirk of a smile from thin lips the last thing I saw before I was unwillingly plunged into the black abyss of complete darkness.

The deprivation of sight that seemed to painfully amplify _everything_ else.

Smell.

The intoxicating aroma of sweat mixed with the spice of expensive cologne.

Touch.

The heat of his flesh hitting me in waves with the closeness of his body to mine.

Sound.

The sound of my heartbeat thrumming erratically in my chest with anticipation of the unknown.

The sound of breathing.

My own...mingled with the stranger's as he drifted ever closer to me.

The sound of his breath as his lips brushed against my ear, causing my flesh to explode into goose bumps at the horrifying sensation of him being this close to me and _not_ being able to see him.

And it was in the darkness he had banished me to, that I felt the foreigner lean himself into me. Closing the gap between us. And I squeezed my eyes tighter against the threat of tears as his lips brushed against my neck in an oral fixation and desire to discover every inch of me with his mouth. I felt the warmth of his breath in combination with the intoxicatingly arousing, feather light touch of his lips against my skin as he inadvertently brushed along _that_ spot.

 _Kyo's_ spot.

The one spot that only _Kyo_ knew about.

Yet this stranger had managed to root out, probe, and discover this secret spot. The spot that _Kyo_ always got me to moan for him, and him alone. To arch my back, and to exhale in bliss that no other man gave me. And I felt so very sick as this guy...this _stranger_...now heartlessly exploited this discovered weakness. The vulnerability of this sensitive soft spot along my neck.

Pain, anger, and self loathing overwhelmed me in nauseating waves when a small whimpered moan of perfidious pleasure made its way past traitorous lips I'd tried to weld shut as I felt him nip along that spot. Gently coaxing with his teeth and lips as another deplorable muffled moan escaped me.

I hated this.

I hated _him_.

And I hated myself.

With a renewed sense of terror I suddenly felt the tactile sensation of soft, tender fingertips as they trailed along my skin. My bare shoulder, as I found myself instantly regretting the revealing halter top I had chosen for Kyo. My arm. Each time, these fingertips halted their movements until my body relaxed again. As if this guy were systematically desensitizing me. Disarming me. Like the proverbial frog that sat in the water as it slowly came to boil over in instant doom.

Those fingers were that slowly boiling water. And I...was the frog being seared to death. His fingertips continued to hail my destruction as they slowly trailed across my abdomen in exploration. Engaging my body in a fight with blows I was helpless to defend myself against. Grazing across the flesh of my exposed mid-drift as they lightly brushed against the naval piercing I remembered Kyo once hailing as 'sexy'.

My stomach tightened and flexed to rebel against the searing heat of this pleasurable touch. A sharp inhalation of a gasp drew past my lips into my lungs that momentarily halted the stranger's exploration of my skin. Only for a moment, though, before I relaxed again and felt those creeping fingers discover the hem of my waistband. Playfully teasing and tugging along my skin tight leggings.

Another helpless whimpered moan of protest pushed through my lips against where his fingers dared to go next.

...not there...

And my weak, whimpered moan manifested into words of bold, breathless objection to his even bolder advances towards a place along my body that was _not_ his to claim.

"Iie."

 _'No.'_

I begged and panted in a gasped, breathless moan. The palm of my hand instinctively pressing against the foreigner's bare, toned chest.

"Yamete kudasai!"

 _'Please stop that!'_

Please.

 _Anything_...but _that_...

Not that.

I didn't want this.

 _Any_ of this.

And I didn't know if it was the desperate tone of my words. Or the way I finally pushed against him. But the soft, tender fingertips finally halted their sexual teasing along my hips as his voice whispered in my ear.

Only one word.

My name.

Or at least the one I had given to him.

"Kitty..." This came whispered in my ear through a strange, thick accent and his alluring, hypnotic voice. "...kitty, kitty, kitty..." The stranger continued to coax in an oddly soothing tone.

Like coaxing a small, frightened animal out of its hiding place.

Tears clung to my lashes as they fluttered open, revealing my distraught, confused emerald gaze. As I stared into the vast waters of his frigid, yet vibrant oceanic eyes I heard him begin to speak words I didn't understand.

And I simply couldn't fathom why he continued to try. Talking to me. Even when he obviously knew that I couldn't comprehend a single word he uttered. That was, until, it became crystal clear that he was addressing me directly. His words filtered through the eloquent, effeminate lilt of his own, personal interpreter.

 _'...I was curious...'_

The man murmured, lending his voice to translate the foreigner's words verbatim as they spoke in tandem. Together, as one entity.

 _'I wanted to know. How long_ _ **you**_ _would allow this to go on. Us. You...and I.'_

Their voices mirrored and overlapped each other as I held the foreigner's gaze. Listening as he stared at me intently, continuing to talk to me.

 _'I wondered how far you would let me go. With you. In front of_ _ **him**_ _.'_

Our eyes drifted in unison towards Kyo. And it was then that I was made to endure the pained look of anguish shaping his features. The look of absolute dejected hurt lingering in his sienna eyes.

The look he gave me was so agonizing that I was forced to look away. Into the eyes of someone else.

 _'...I'm actually a little surprised that you let me get as far as I did...'_

The foreigner murmured through his host's voice with the smirk of a smile to me, his eyes roaming my body once more before settling along my face.

 _'I though you'd_ _ **never**_ _tell me to stop.'_

This came followed with the sardonic snort of a chuckle that emanated from his throat through that slender nose in amusement as his host finished his final words.

 _'...pity that you did...'_

He playfully teased, intimating what he thought I was missing out on by having denied him. And just how far he had been willing to take his little game at my expense. And Kyo's. Had I not stopped him. With another small chortle of laughter towards the expression of my face, the foreigner eased himself out of my personal space and slowly pivoted on his wrapped feet. Turning himself towards Kyo.

Silently stalking away from me, he slowly approached Kyo. Eyeing him with cold, frigid impassivity. Stopping mere feet away from him, the foreigner simply stared Kyo down. His pale blue gaze roaming down Kyo's body. Sizing him up like an alpha wolf regarding his potential competition. And I could see how this silent standoff to the foreigner was wearing on Kyo's nerves.

And if _I_ could see the repressed tension along Kyo's tanned features.

...then...

As if to violently confirm my fear and suspicion, I watched in horror as the stranger took a swift, antagonistic step forward. Lurching in a false step towards Kyo in a single dominating show of posturing aggression. And this sudden, swift movement startled Kyo so badly that he took a step back away from the stranger. An undignified snort of amusement manifested from the Japanese playboy's delicate nose towards Kyo's autonomic flinch response as he bit down on his lower lip to stifle the laughter lodged in his throat. And the foreigner's own slender lips spread into a malicious smile before his bare muscular shoulders began to shake with laughter at having so effectively intimidated Kyo.

I could see the look of outrage on Kyo's face as his tanned features contorted in frustration. His jaw clenched in rage at being openly humiliated. In front of me. And I saw how hard he worked to hide this. From me. And from the stranger laughing in his face. But just as suddenly as the sound had taken hold, silence followed as the foreigner's amused features shifted to a more blank, stoic expression. Though that pale gaze still lingered ominously on Kyo's form.

The two stood in heavy weighted silence before the stranger slowly raised his dominant fist. Wordlessly presenting his middle finger to Kyo, the guy then wrapped his thin perfect lips around the digit. Dark lashes fluttered as he slowly inserted it into his own mouth in an absolutely disgustingly lewd gesture to Kyo that caused his Japanese host to erupt into an obscene giggle of amused glee.

"Well now." The man purred, his voice and tone thrumming in almost erotic delight towards his friend's indecent antics. "I trust _that_ gesture needs no interpretation." He chuckled before finally addressing the foreigner as the two conversed together before the Japaneses playboy turned towards me once more.

"Well, my dear. It seems that my friend has _finally_ had his fill of fun for the evening and is ready to take his leave of you." This came spoken with the soft, pursed smile of his delicate lips as he regarded his friend for a moment longer that was comfortable.

Finally sparing a glance in my direction, the man silently donned the fancy jacket that had been draped over his arm in order to ready himself to leave as well. The semi-formal black sued hooded jacket gave him a slightly more personable, boyish look. Trimmed in white fur along the sleeves and hood as it tempered his lithe frame from the cooler elements. Zipping it up, he then offered me the sinful simper of a parting smile.

And it was then, with his fur-trimmed jacked and that smile of his, that it struck me exactly how much he resembled every bit the cliché image of a pimp.

"I imagine Mr. Mitchell is in dire need of a shower." He made this offhand comment as that smile seemed to grow in wickedness along his delicate, pursed lips. "And it seems that _I_ have a debt to collect."

With that the man crowned his head with the hood of his jacket as the two of men shared a wordless, knowing glance before crossing each others path to tend to their personal needs.

One silently stalking towards the private locker rooms reserved for the fighters.

The other sauntering languidly along his way towards the ring where the referee still lingered to close up the event.

And I was suddenly left alone in this turbulent black sea of chaos and confusion. Feeling violated and abused at having openly endured the persecutory discrimination of misogyny and male chauvinism. Burdened with the fact that now, more than ever, I had something to prove.

 **THE END**

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

Johnny's in America  
No tricks at the wheel

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

No one needs anyone  
They don't even just pretend

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

Johnny's in America

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans

Johnny's in America  
uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

Johnny wants a plane  
Johnny wants to suck on a Coke

Johnny wants a woman  
Johnny wants to think of a joke

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

Johnny's in America  
uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans

 _('mericans)_

Johnny's in America  
Johnny looks up at the stars

Johnny combs his hair, and

Johnny wants pussy and cars

Johnny's in America

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

Johnny's in America

uh-uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh

uh-uh-uh

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans  
I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

Yeah, I'm afraid of Americans

I'm afraid of the world  
I'm afraid I can't help it  
I'm afraid I can't...

I'm afraid of Americans

God is an American  
God is an American

God is an American  
God is an American

God is an American  
God is an American

God is an American  
God is an American

God is an American  
God is an American

* * *

 **A/N: Featured lyrics in this chapter are from the song "I'm Afraid Of Americans" by the one and only David Bowie (with Nine Inch Nails). Though...I have to admit...picking a song to encapsulate this story was more difficult than I imagined, and I'm still not entirely sure if I'm 100 percent happy with my choice. But I DO love the song and feel it is reflective of the story's characters.**

 **Now...the end of this story. My goodness. We finally arrived at the end of this story. A story with one Kristean Mitchell. And not a single f-bomb was given. Or...was it..?**

 **In closing, thank you all for reading and reviewing this story. Thank you for enduring any grammatical or spelling errors. And a HUGE thank you to Galaxy Visionary for allowing me to use her original character, Gina from 'No Strings Attached' and for allowing me to use her words from her work to paint this piece of art for you. I hope that this end is satisfactory in entertaining you as well as doing honor to your work, my friend.**

 **And finally, another huge thank you to Fandom Angst for allowing me to use her archetype of Akito from 'Creatures of the Underworld', as well as allowing me to blame her for the ensuing mayhem caused by said character.**


End file.
